Uchiha
by 7andthefluff
Summary: Deep in the forests of an unfamiliar country Minato faces the challenge of his life... and terrorists...


**Minato Namikaze's Journal**

3 May. Bistritz

I left Munich at 8:35 on the first of May, arriving at Vienna early the next morning. I should have arrived near 6:46, but the plane was an hour late. I blame the terrorists. Those jerks should just blow themselves up if they enjoy it that much instead of killing innocent people. I mean really 72 virgins? I'd rather have a slut with some experience. God, I hope Kushina doesn't see that part… If so consider me thoroughly screwed… If I die Jiraiya, you better keep your hands off my wife, because I _will_ come back as a ghost, cut your penis off, send it to Miley Cyrus to use as a dildo, rip your bowels out and strangle the life from you with them. Glad we have that cleared.

Anyway, Buda-Pesth seems like a wonderful place. Then again, George Bush isn't the president, so I think that helps… I didn't get to spend much time there due to the fact the train was late. Damn terrorists. I also blame them if my son falls for a vampire… although I should blame Stephenie Meyer. But she is one, right? These are the questions that haunt our souls.

At Klausenburgh I spent the night at the Hotel Royale. I had dinner, or rather supper, which was very good (mem. Get recipe for Kushina, because she's a woman. And women like cooking. Right? Since I remember sensei saying that all women need to stay pregnant and in the kitchen… I don't think he's right…) I asked the waiter, who said it was called 'Paprika Hendl', mentioning that it was a national dish. He then wandered off before answering my question about the recipe, muttering something about how 'Damn foreigners don't know how to Google shit.' But sir, I do know how to Google shit. I just don't want to. I can't turn off GoogleImages, and that's just asking for trouble.

Despite another late train, I arrived at Bistritz at 7:30. Not a place I'll be returning to. Between the tourists in their stupid shirts and the citizens in stupid traditional costumes to lure in the tourists (note: They also seem like terrorists), I felt like I was in one of Jiraya's books. The hotel was nice, although old, and there was an email waiting when I finally managed to get wifi working.

_''Dear Mr. Namikaze,_

_ Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you since I want to get out of this ancient castle. It's getting on my nerves. At three tomorrow, the train will start for Bukovina, and a seat has been reserved for you. At the Borgo Pass, a carriage will be waiting to pick you up. I trust that your journey has been a good one _(note: One word for you, Mr. Uchiha. Terrorists.) _and that you will enjoy your stay._

_~Uchiha"_

As I was checking out at noon, the old woman working at the desk suddenly grabbed me and tried to explain how I couldn't leave, muttering something in broken English about Mr. Uchiha. I tried to detach her hands from my shirt, but the old lady (who was lot stronger than she looked) wouldn't let me go until I took a crucifix on a chain, warning me about the evilness of Count Uchiha. Unsettled by this potential terrorist/rapist, I just grabbed my things and left, taking their key card with me. Serves those idiots right. I mean, they continued arguing with me after I said two camels in a tiny car! No one can beat that! NO ONE!

Exactly at three (finally, no terrorists), the train pulled into the station. Evidently the creepy hotel manager got around, as the people on the train were whispering, obviously about me. They stopped and looked away when I stared, an inexplicable look of fear in their eyes, but I did manage to catch the multiple mentions of Mr. Uchiha. And repeated multiple times, the Romanian word for vampire. These people read too much Twilight! Vampires don't exist and Jacob/Edward will never love you. Build a bridge and get over it. God, now I'm going to have nightmares about sparkly Romanian counts….

5 May- The castle

I was right. I won't go into detail about my nightmares, but the images will haunt me for the rest of my life. Anyway, the train arrived at the pass on time, despite the cruddy roads. There was no carriage waiting, and the conductor seemed anxious to get going.

Insisting that I'd be brought back the next day at no cost, the train prepared to leave. Just then, a coach finally pulled up in the grass alongside the tracks, jet black horses eying the train.

The driver stepped down and exchanged a few words with the conductor, then opened the luggage compartment and grabbed my bags, white-gloved hands clenching the handles so tightly they cracked. Motioning for me to follow. I noticed the other passengers shrinking away as he passed. Unsettled, I quickly stepped off the train. Terrorists. They're all terrorists. The carriage was antique, ornately carved, and black as the horses that pulled it along. Still feeling like I was in a bad Twilight movie, I glanced out the window as we traveled through the mountains. After a while, I realized that we seemed to be going in circles. Confused, I wondered if the driver was a terrorist.

Giving up on figuring out where we were going, I let the curtain fall back against the window. That was when the howling started. Just one dog at first, then several, the sound remaining constant, as if they were chasing the carriage. I could hear the horses snorting outside. Unnerved, I glanced out the window, only to see huge black wolves circling the carriage, terrifying the horses. Noticing this as well, the dark-haired driver pulled the reins up and stopped suddenly, climbing down from his seat. With a broad gesture, he ordered the wolves back, and unbelievably, like trained dogs, they slunk off into the woods.

Completely confused, I nervously opened the door, jumping down, half-expecting the wolves to return at any moment. I asked the driver how he did it, but received no answer, just an odd smirk. "What's your name? Who are you?" The driver remained silent and hopped back up on the carriage. Just when I began to think I would get no answer, he turned, bloody-colored eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He motioned for me to get back in the carriage. Just before the door shut, I heard "Sebastian Michaelis." Without another word, he tugged on the reins and we continued our journey. I must have fallen asleep and dreamt of the whole incident, because it seemed to be repeated over and over. The damned terrorists must have drugged me. I knew that soup looked suspicious.

Some time later, we finally began approaching the great castle. The courtyard was huge and dark, the trees were so thick you could tell they went on for miles, the ancient trees seemed immense in the half-light. The driver jumped down, helped me down, and set my bags on the ground beside me. Without a single word, he returned to the carriage and drove off, leaving me alone in the freezing courtyard. Unsure of what to do, I stood, staring at the huge, intimidating oak door. Just as I was raising my hand to knock, I heard the click of unlocking latches. Eventually, the door creaked back.

Who I saw did not look like what I was expecting, I expected the Count to be a much older man, but the over confident 16 year old who opened the door suggested otherwise. "Welcome to my home," The boy said, completely indifferent. He had jet-black hair, spiked in a style that kinda looked like a duck's ass (I say that with the utmost respect BTW). In contrast, his sickly pale skin was white as snow. His onyx eyes had a piercing, soulless gaze.

I stared for a few moments, blinking. "Aren't you a bit young to be the Count?" I asked in disbelief. "Am I?" The look in his eyes suggested that he's seen much of the world and many different times. "I have actual food here, there's no need to catch flies." Count Uchiha said with a smirk, referencing to the fact my mouth was still open.

"Follow me, I'll show you to your room," The Count started walking, not checking to see if I was following.


End file.
